


Furtive

by Fierceawakening



Series: Sultai Crossover AU [3]
Category: Magic: The Gathering, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Humanized, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 17:09:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3418757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fierceawakening/pseuds/Fierceawakening
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sultai crossover AU (TFP Megatron and Starscream transplanted into Tarkir, Megatron as a human and Starscream as a naga.) </p><p>Starscream has threatened one of Megatron's humans and snuck off to the jungle outside the humans' camp. Concerned Starscream is plotting -- or perhaps just ill -- Megatron chases after him, and finds a very annoyed Starscream in the middle of his molt. Who would much prefer that this overgrown monkey leave him the hell alone.</p><p>Megatron, of course, has other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Furtive

**Author's Note:**

> Originally meant to be a ficlet, based on a prompt about Starscream being irritable because he's shedding his skin. It... grew from there.
> 
> Thanks to [mllemusketeer](http://mllemusketeer.tumblr.com) for beta reading.

He found Starscream just outside the camp. 

Or, better said, he found the tip of Starscream's tail outside the camp. The rest of Starscream's bulk curled away from him, apparently uncoiled to its full length.

Megatron frowned and followed the trail of scaled flesh. Was Starscream ill, or tired? The only time he'd ever seen a naga stretch itself out like this was when it slept or needed rest, and even then it usually kept its coils underneath it. Most of the time, nagas looked almost like humans standing up, their head, torso and arms upright and their snake-bulk curled under them.

The other humans had warned him that Starscream was in a foul mood. He'd hissed at them to stay away and even struck out at one. Even though Megatron had strictly forbidden him to kill any of his followers.

No harm had come of it, which was a marvel. The woman Starscream had attacked, Qasi, was nowhere near the fastest of Megatron’s humans, and had rarely seen nagas outside of when they came to threaten the humans’ hovels.

But, somehow, despite his deadly speed and inhuman agility, Starscream had managed to miss. Qasi had told him Starscream’s eyes had seemed unfocused, and he’d licked at the air a lot with his tongue, as though he hadn’t clearly seen her.

“He told me to leave him be, or he would kill me,” Qasi had said. “He said he didn’t want you coming after him either. Confused or not, my lord, he was very angry.”

 _Ill_ , Megatron thought again. Starscream’s tail looked dull, its usual silvery shine faded to a dull grey-green.

Megatron’s scowl deepened. The last thing he needed was for Starscream to fall sick. His healers were skilled, and strong in the old magics. But nagas considered humans little better than their attack baboons. They would never call upon a human unless they had no other choice. Most of Megatron’s humans rarely saw the naga rulers of the clan, much less used their magic to heal them.

Starscream lay on his belly, one side of his body pressed flush against a sharp rock. Then Megatron saw it: translucent skin, peeling back from a small tear, probably torn by Starscream’s  own claws. The naga’s coiled bulk slid forward and scraped against the rock. The old skin curled back, like a glove turned inside out, as he eased his way out of it.

The new skin beneath was a rich emerald, deeper than Megatron had ever seen it. Silver iridescence blazed on Starscream’s scales, a bright glittering sheen. The scales on Starscream’s abdomen were difficult to see from this position, but as Starscream moved, Megatron caught glimpses of red, vivid as arterial blood.

 _Of course,_ Megatron thought. _He’s shedding his skin._ He stepped forward, moving toward the newly exposed, brilliant half of Starscream’s body.

And his claws and fangs. Megatron tensed.

Starscream struck. His fanged head lunged toward Megatron with the full speed of his coiled body. No illness slowed his movements, and his aim was as deadly as Megatron had ever seen it. His extended fangs gleamed bright in the sunlight

But Megatron hadn’t survived the gladiator pits -- and the Sultai crocodile pits -- for nothing. And he’d come to know his naga well in the time since their alliance. And Starscream’s muscles must have been tired from pushing his way out of the skin he’d outgrown.

He darted to the side before he even saw the silver-green blur of Starscream’s movement. The deadly fangs pricked only air.

He wasted no time waiting for Starscream to rear back again. He leapt onto the naga’s back, behind his head, out of the way of the deadly fangs, and held on.

Starscream thrashed under him. Long claws reached out to bite deep into his back. Pain flared through the flesh, and he felt blood well up from the cuts and drip, warm and wet, over his back.

The cuts stung, but he could live with them. Nagas’ venom came through their bite, not their claws.

“Starscream,” he called out. “Settle down.”

“Megatron?” came the sibilant voice. “What are you doing here?”

The claws digging into his back froze against his skin. They didn’t leave his flesh, but laid still against the blood-smeared skin. He smirked. 

“This is my camp, Starscream,” he said. “I go where I will in it.”

An angry hiss answered him, but the scaled muscle under his body stilled, and the claws slid  from his back. He looked down at Starscream’s head beneath him. The blotch of color on the naga’s forehead was a bright, angry gore-red.

He willed himself to ignore the pain and slid off Starscream’s back. He dropped into a fighting stance and drew his sword in case Starscream felt like attacking him again.

The sword’s hilt was warm with enchantment, a mist that curled between his fingers. He could feel its thirst. Tainted with the blood of a demon, it hungered for souls, just like the rakshasa whose paw Megatron had pierced to get it.

And right now, it wanted Starscream’s. The naga stared at it, mesmerized by the lavender haze of the magic. His tongue tasted the tang of the magic and he stared.

Then he hissed and his pupils narrowed again. He lowered his head in a gesture Megatron recognized as grudging respect.

“Starscream,” Megatron said. “You’re molting.”

Starscream lifted his head again and hissed. “Yes, and I told your little humans not to follow me."

"No, you attacked one of my humans. And would have killed her if you hadn't missed." 

"Killed her?" Starscream laughed, a sibilant hiss. "Surely one ape more or less doesn't matter. Not even to you."

He scraped against the rock and snarled.

Megatron smirked and fought down a laugh. A small segment of skin clung tight to his body, even as he rubbed to scratch it off. Part of it tore, a translucent bit of patterned skin dangling from Starscream’s body, but part of it stayed stuck.

He pretended not to notice and slid his sword back into its place at his belt. Annoyed as Starscream was, he wasn’t a threat for the moment. Not now that Megatron had subdued him once.

Besides, he’d been pushing his way out of his old skin for a while now. His muscles must have been tired from the constant, careful movement.

He’d made Megatron bleed, but that hardly mattered. Megatron had experienced worse in the crocodile pits.

"The humans are my followers,” he said. They’re not yours to dispose of.”

“She was a fool, Megatron.” His muscles bunched as he moved.

“Maybe so. But we need them for our rebellion. All of them."

"Very well.” Starscream dipped his head again, but his tongue flicked out in agitation. “But as the leader of these humans, surely that rebellion is your first priority. Surely you don’t need to follow me all the way out here.”

“I told you already. I go where I will.”

“I meant no disrespect." Another hiss, too low to be a laugh. "But surely even your pack of primates has some concept of privacy."

Megatron stepped toward the rock and Starscream's straining muscles. "Privacy, Starscream? Is that why you're so -- uncomfortable now?"

Starscream clenched his clawed hands, pushed hard against the rock, and hissed in pain. Most of his shedding skin curled back, but one small segment stayed stuck. It clung to his new, vibrant body, a last remnant of the thing he had been.

Megatron waited.

"You humans drape yourselves in cloths, despite the jungle heat. Imagine how you would feel if someone caught you without them."

Megatron's eyes widened. "You're naked."

“My skin is half shed and I’m slithering around on the ground. Do you think I wanted you following me?”

“Me?”

Starscream's tongue darted out in agitation. “Or -- or any of the humans in the camp, really --”

“Or any of them. Of course.”

He reached out to touch the vibrant new skin, just past the spot where the old skin clung. It was warm against his palm, heat Starscream's scales had no doubt absorbed from the tropical sun.

The muscles moved under his hand, rippling in surprise or protest.

Starscream yelped, a surprisingly high-pitched cry for someone with such a rasping voice. "What do you think you're -- ?"

"It's stuck to you, Starscream. I could help you with that."

"What? No! Do you think I'm a snakelet confused by his first molt?" He scraped harder against the rock.

“I think you'll injure yourself if you tear into your new skin.” He ran his hand over Starscream’s exposed scales, hoped that the movement would calm him. “Which you’re going to do if you don’t calm down.”

“But I --”

“And how pretty will Starscream the Dragon-Kin look with a gash ripped into his skin on the very first day he wears it?”

The naga had no answer for that.

“Is that why you lashed out at Qasi? Afraid you looked foolish?” 

“What self-respecting naga would want a human trailing after them when they can barely see?”

“When they --?”

“Yes, yes." Starscream cut him off, too quickly, his voice smooth and lulling. “Of course you're right. I was afraid of looking foolish. Especially in front of one of your apes."

"I don't think so, Starscream."

"But you said yourself --"

"What was it you were about to say?"

A sibilant sigh answered him. "You've noticed, I assume, that nagas don't blink?"

Megatron chuckled. "Yes."

"We have scales over our eyes to protect them. When we're about to shed our skin, the old scales start to separate. Including the ones over our eyes."

"And you can't see."

Megatron grinned. The nagas claimed to be all-powerful, their scale-armored bodies and potent magics gifts from the ancient dragons' bloodlines. Few humans dared defy them, much less attack them.

Until Megatron had done it first.

And now Starscream had just told him that the nagas had a weakness -- at least if caught at the right time.

Starscream must have known it. He hissed, narrowed his pupils, and lowered his head. "Well -- not quite." 

"Not quite?" 

"We’re not blind, Megatron. But our vision clouds, until --" 

"Until you molt." 

Starscream raised his head to glare at Megatron. "Yes." 

“But you saw me.” 

Starscream sighed again. “The skin near our nose and mouth splits first, so the old skin on our heads comes off before anything else.”

"So that's why you attacked Qasi. You had to stop her before --"

"Stop her? I intended to kill her. If you mean to kill the khan of the Sultai, you don’t need slow-witted human fools in your army, Megatron. You have zombie hordes for that."

Megatron couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “I have the khan’s own zombie hordes for that. My magic will let me control them.” 

He curled his free hand around his sword’s hilt. He’d stolen a rakshasa’s blood and learned its magic. And now, when Sidisi least expected it, her own sibsig would turn on her.

But at the moment, Megatron’s main concern was his living followers. And his petulant naga.

Whose soul he had no intention of feeding to his enchanted blade. He relaxed his fingers and forced himself to remember more mundane things. “So you meant to kill Qasi and missed. Because you needed to molt, and your vision was blurred. But by the time I came looking for you, you’d already started shedding.”

The only answer was a hiss and an uncomfortable shift in the muscles under Megatron’s hand. 

Megatron snickered. “And that time, you actually missed.” 

Starscream’s tongue licked at the air. “Very well then, mighty Megatron. This is your camp, and you go where you will. And what you wanted was to find me.” 

“I wanted to know where you had gone.” 

“And now you say you want to help me,” Starscream continued, his voice soft and lulling. His pupils widened and his tongue darted out again. “That all you care about is how -- pretty I look.” 

Megatron shook his head. _Is this how you talk to our khan, naga? Is this how you convince her to let you live, even after you sneak out to consort with humans?_  

“No. But I wouldn’t have offered to help you if I didn’t mean it.” He let go of the sword and reached up to free a smaller -- and far more mundane -- knife from an armband at his shoulder. “There is no need for you to tear up skin you’ve just grown.” 

“And there’s no need for you to use that,” Starscream returned. 

“You cut my back.” Megatron laughed. “It’s only fair you let me run the risk of cutting yours.” 

He lifted his hand. Starscream hissed and writhed, but stilled. 

Megatron brought his knife to Starscream’s back. In the pits he was all force and strength, crushing and destroying. He leashed that force now, slid the very tip of his blade with agonizing slowness over the skin stuck to Starscream’s back. 

The naga lay still beneath him. Even his red-splotched head rested on the ground, unmoving except for the tongue periodically tasting the air. 

Megatron tucked his knife away. A slim line of silver gleamed where his blade had passed. He grabbed at the ragged edges of the old skin. Vivid, silver-sheened emerald flared bright as he pulled them away. Starscream wriggled, no doubt eager to be rid of the skin he’d outgrown. 

He hissed, a wordless rasp that Megatron knew by now meant pleasure. 

“Better?” Megatron smirked. He reached down to press his palm to Starscream’s new, exposed scales. As before, they were warm, the muscles beneath coiled and ready to move. 

Starscream raised his head and tasted the air with his tongue, his expression an odd echo of Megatron’s own. “Of course, human. You have my -- utmost gratitude.” 

He writhed under Megatron’s hand. “But now you’ll need to move aside. I have a molt to finish, and I don’t need you any more.” 

Megatron chuckled. The tips of his fingers brushed Starscream’s new skin, and then he pulled his hand away. “Of course.” 

He stepped back just far enough that swiping claws couldn’t reach him. 

“I’ll just wait for you,” he said. "Right here."


End file.
